A Royal Invitation
by Rensong
Summary: "Amusing thought of the day - the Doctor at the Royal Wedding.  Come on, you know he'd be invited." Rated K  for one or two naughty words.


_On Friday morning, after a week of the Royal Wedding being all over the news, William and Catherin finally tied the knot. As I was rather heartily sick of hearing about it by that time, I did not watch and was mostly just glad it was over by the time I woke up._

_Of course, then it was all over my Facebook, so alas, I could not escape. So in a true fashion of taking limes and starting a tequila bar, my status that morning was "Amusing thought of the day - the Doctor at the Royal Wedding. Come on, you know he'd be invited, even if the invite would come along with a polite note asking him not to attend in hopes of *not* attracting trouble on that special day. " Then some awesome person did an equally awesome photoshop of the TARDIS off in the crowd behind the bride when she first got to show off her snazzy dress (I have yet to figure out how to make links in ff dot net without them being eaten, so if you want to see, do a search for "Junkyardkid + tumbler + uh-oh" and it should come up), and the Plot Bunnies came. Ambushed me in the shower, actually, and this story pretty much popped into my head fully-formed._

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><p>The console beeped, and the TARDIS informed him that he had a new message from Earth, thankfully on the regular feed and not the emergency one. He received far too many messages on that one –"Doctor, the Zantrax are invading"; "Doctor, there is alien tech turning the Tams into blue jelly"; "Doctor, that *bleedin'* gizmo you left us with has been making a mechanical squealing noise for the past month, get the fuck back here and fix it!" You know, it's almost like those primitive apes were starting to take him for granted.<p>

But on *this* console, the non-emergency one, he did ever so love to get messages on that one and did a little internal (and when no one else was around to see him, occasionally a bit of an external one, too) happy dance whenever one of his mates and/or former companions contacted him to share some little tid-bit of news. Last time it was some extremely adorable photos of Martha's new little one, and that was… hmm, carry the two, 3-sigmas divided by nexeletee… Huh, better than a year and a half ago for him.

The console beeped again, reminding him that there was still a message, and as the TARDIS was in a bit of a mood – didn't matter the species, women *always* had "moods" – he quickly opened it before she decided to accidentally relocate his pants drawer onto the bottom of the pool again. Or worse, dump it in the middle of a botany room, right on top of the Ledaetan poison ivy. Last time that happened, he ended up getting some very itchy welts in some very uncomfortable places, and it was weeks before he was able to wash them enough to get all of the oils out.

He punched some buttons, flicked a few switches, and soon he was able to read:

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><p>Attachments - 2: Royal Invitation . pdf; From The Desk of Queen Elizabeth . dox<p>

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><p>Attachment 1 - Royal Invitation . pdf<p>

_The Lord Chamberlain is commanded by_

_The Queen to invite_

_...  
><em>

**_Doctor_**

_...  
><em>

_to the Marriage of_

_His Royal Highness William of Wales, K.G._

_with_

_Miss Catherin Middleton_

_at Westminster Abbey_

_On Friday, 29th April, 2011 at 11:00 a.m._

* * *

><p>Attachment 2 - From The Desk of Queen Elizabeth . docx<p>

Doctor, you are a dear friend, and this country and this world owes you for dragging our posteriors from the fire over and over again across the centuries. As your friend, I take great pleasure in inviting you to the marriage of our William and Katie on the 29 of April, 2011. As the Queen, however, I must request that you _decline_ to actually attend because you and I both know that trouble follows you like a particularly determined hound on a very promising trail. For the sake of our already frazzled wedding planners, the peace-of-mind for our security members, and for my own rather strained nerves, I do believe it would be best for everyone involved if you were to keep your distance on that special day. Planning a Royal Wedding is a pain in the arse, and I'd rather not invite trouble, which you, my dear Doctor, have in spades.

As a peace offering of sorts, I am personally inviting you for a bit of informal tea on the 3rd of May, 2011 – well after the happy couple are off on their honeymoon beyond even your reach thanks to the tireless (and no doubt less than legal, but it won't be the first time I've turned a blind eye, and as long as my grandbaby is happy, I will turn gladly turn a blind eye again) efforts of UNIT and the hospitality of Barcelonanians – so we might catch up and I can share photos of the happy occasion. I may be Queen, but I am also a grandmother and have quite a collection after all these years. Not to mention all the 24 hour news coverage that has been hounding me and mine since the wedding was announced. Sometimes, I ever so much miss the days before television.

Please do come prepared, though, or at least as prepared as someone such as yourself ever is, because should a crisis arrive on your heels I would very much appreciate any assistance you might be able to offer. I am an old women, Doctor, and after all of the surprises you've dropped in our lap over the years, I am quite uncertain how much more my poor heart can take.

Liz

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><p>Willy? Little Willy? The one who loved trains and was always on my case for a trip to the 19th century so he could ride on a real steam engine? He's getting <em>married<em>? That's fantastic! My congratulations! Please do pass them on to William and the lucky lass as well!

Thank you truly for the invitation, and I dearly would love to go – I haven't been to a Royal Wedding since Henry the VIII shacked up with Catherin of Aragon, and we all know how well that turned out. I know of this Catherin Middleton – sharp as a tack and a will of iron, quite capable of following in your rather impressive footsteps. Hopefully some of your formidable intelligence has rubbed off on your grandson and he'll be smart enough not to let her get away like that douche Henry.

But you are quite right – though I haven't gone by "Trouble" for years, I do agree that it does seem to know exactly where to find me. Doesn't even have to go looking, it just knows where I am at all times. Bit of a stressor some days, but it does keep me on my toes. Anyway, I wouldn't wish my sort of luck on anyone, and the last thing I want to do is ruin little William's special day. I will, however, take you up on your offer for tea, and I do so look forward to those pictures. Make sure your photographers take lots of them – news coverage is all well and good, but nothing says "wedding" like over-paid photographers who get right in your face for that perfect shot.

Barcelona, huh? Best party planet in the galaxy! Been meaning to get back there myself one of these days, but I do so solemnly swear that I will leave the two love birds to their honeymoon. Also, you can't fool me, Lizzie my girl – I know how addicted you are to Britian's Got Talent, and your telly gets just as much action as anyone elses'. You just… happen to be a part of that action a bit more often than most. I'd love to be able to say that one day the paparazzi will be eliminated thanks to some form of degenerate hand-cramping disease whenever they got within two inches of recordable media, but the truth is you all are pretty much stuck with them for the foreseeable and not-so-foreseeable future.

And you will never be old, my dear Liz. You will remain forever ageless and timeless, and be around for years to come. Trust me on that – I have some *very* good sources.

Doctor

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><p><em>AN - Before all you long-time Who fans go dusting off all that trivia you've picked up over the years, I totally and completely made up the mathematical term 'nexeletee', and the 'Zantrax' and 'Ledaetan poison ivy' are nothing but a products of my imagination. Also, I know nothing of William or Catherin beyond the obvious - ie, one is a prince, and the other is now technically a princess I suppose - so the train thing was also a shot in the dark. Does sound rather cute, though, doesn't it? Ickle William tugging on the Doctor's coat begging for a trip through the 1800s. I betcha he was a huge Mark Twain fan, too.<em>


End file.
